Page 8

Chapter 7

Hard to Swallow

S elf-preservation is no longer high on my list of things to worry about as I step around my regurgitation and make my way to this motherfucker’s house. Walking straight through the yard and to the front door, half of me wants to ring the doorbell and fucking end him as soon as he opens it. But where’s the fun in that? Fun….. I thought I had found a replacement for this kind of fun. Fuck.

I try the doorknob, hoping that maybe, in the throes of passion, they forgot to lock it. No such luck. I walk with purpose around the house, looking for another entrance to try before I have to make my own way in. The night air licks my face as I come upon the back door. Looking at my reflection in the glass, I swear I can see steam coming off my face with the amount of homicidal fucking rage I have boiling under my skin. I turn the knob of the back door. Would you look at that, unlocked.

I walk inside, close the door, and turn the lock. Just in case. We wouldn’t want any more uninvited guests sneaking in.

The sounds of sex can faintly be heard. Every thrust, moan, grunt, and squeak of the bed feels like someone piping broken glass into my ears. My head throbs as the noises turn into Father’s laughter echoing around my skull. It’s taking every ounce of self-control not to take a spoon and hammer it into my fucking head—scooping the pain out like the last bite of ice cream in the container.

Looking around the room I’m in, I quickly recognize it as a kitchen. The pain in my skull quiets a little. That’s it, Osiris. Focus . My eyes scan the countertops until I see a big knife block. The pain quiets a little more as I make my way over.

“I’m going to cum again, baby! Don’t fucking stop,” Jess moans loudly, and my knees almost give out. My hands slam down on the counter, gripping it in time to keep me from collapsing. The pain is back with a vengeance, and it almost feels like my vision is getting dark at the edges. That’s odd. I’ve never experienced this before. It almost feels like the world around me is in slow motion. Or rather, frames are missing from the reel of film my eyes are recording for my brain to process.

My hand is pulling knives out of the block before I realize I’ve told it to do that. Filet knife ? Naw. Steak knife ? Naw. Chef knife ? Naw... ohh… here we go. The thickest of the bunch. The meat cleaver. Yes . The pain quiets down again, and I feel like I can actually squeeze in a deep breath without wanting to throw up. Which is good, because now that I have my paint brush, it’s time to make some fucking art. To do that, I need to follow the fucking sounds these low-life, scumbag, heart-breaking, two-faced, cunt-fucking meat puppets are making.

It’s almost over, I tell myself.

Carefully placed steps follow the disgusting sounds. Something inside me yearns for me to leave and get away from the source of this pain as quickly as I can. What an odd feeling. Why would I run from it when I could butcher it instead? So many new emotions swirling through me with no one to offer explanation or guidance on what they are or how to process them. So, I will do what I do best, fucking kill it.

The door to the bedroom is open. The hallway I’m in is bathed in darkness, hidden from the moonlight that's shining through the window next to the bed they’re on. Hearing the sounds of betrayal was one thing. Seeing this man ram his cock into who I thought was my fucking girl, is a whole other thing. My knuckles crack under the immense pressure from squeezing the handle of my killing instrument. Thrust after weak thrust, I watch him thump into her. Every single part of me wants to swing this blade as hard as I can at the back of his neck, severing his spinal cord and watch his body collapse on top of her. Maybe she would drown in his blood. That’d be fun. But yet, my feet remain frozen in place. Every puff of air from their lungs makes the already weakened flame in my heart flicker. The twinkling light shivering in fear, knowing that it, too, is about to die. And with it goes any possibility of love. Snuffed out. As he empties his balls into her cunt, I, too, am emptying myself of all emotional connection to another human being. Like sand in an hourglass, their time is up.

“Hi, Jess,” I speak as I step from the shadow and into the light. A panicked shriek rips from her throat with the little air she has left after that pathetic excuse of a pounding she got.

“What?? Who the fuck are you?? Dude get the fuck out of here!” the guy yells at me as he rolls off of Jess’s naked body. She quickly covers herself up with the disheveled sheets that she can grab.

“Oh darling, we’ve all seen you naked. I don’t think you need to cover up,” I grit out as I keep an eye on both of them. They look like cockroaches frantically trying to hide.

“O??? Did you… fucking follow me here??” Jess sounds angry. That’s cute.

“Ya know, I really thought we had something special.” I make the weapon in my hand known as I speak calmly and concisely. “Really… really special.” I gently check the sharpness of the blade with the pad of my thumb as I look back and forth at both of them.

“I mean… yeah, you were fun. But Jesus. You’re a fucking psycho!” her frustration mounting in her voice. I can tell she's trying to act like she's not scared of the knife in my hand. But that angry face can’t block the sweet smell of fear in the air.

“Ya know, you’re not the first person to call me that today,” I say with a smirk.

“You know this fuckin’ guy??” Douchebag says as he swings his legs out of the bed and stands. His naked, sweaty body looks more and more like he wants to attack me. I hope he tries.

“Yeah, we hooked up a couple times. It was nothing,” Jess spits out at him before returning her glare back at me. I raise an eyebrow.

“Nothing?” The embers inside my chest are dying out with every word she says. “You’re going to honestly say that I meant nothing to you?” I take a step toward the bed and squeeze the knife handle again.

“Not a thing, you fucking loser,” she barks. I wish I wasn’t so attracted to the anger in her eyes. My dick pulses in my pants despite the fact that I know I won’t see that look again after tonight.

“Loser….. That’s what you think I am?” I narrow my gaze at her, my eyebrows pinching down on the top of my nose.

“Look at you! I’d have more respect if you stood outside the window with a boombox professing your pathetic love for me!” she says with a little chuckle at the end. I feel a low rumble in my chest start to rise as I remain stoic. Also, what the fuck is a boombox?

“Jess... shut up.” The guy’s two brain cells finally alert him that they are in much more danger than this fucking cunt realizes, “... there’s something not right about this fuckin’ guy. Can we please just get him out of my fucking house?” His voice is shaky and weak. What a waste of flesh.

“I’d listen to your little fuck boy. Not that it matters anymore.” I smile at them both. Full teeth, wide-eyed, psychotic smile. I dunno why I did that, but… it feels good. It feels natural. But also not exactly like me. Another version of me, maybe. I wonder. “Hehehehe,” I giggle. Ohh, that feels good, too. Huh. Mental note to explore whatever that is later.

“Ya know what, fuck the both of you. I can get better dick in 10 minutes if I wanted it. I’m out,” Jess declares as she gets up from the bed and starts to walk toward me. I step in her way. “Move!” she shouts at my smiling face.

I see the slap coming from a mile away, but I don’t move. I want her to hit me. I want her to hammer that final nail into her fucking coffin. And she does it beautifully. In one big swing, she pulls her hand back before using her hips to swing it hard, connecting with my cheek and knocking my face to the side.

And that is it. The last grain of sand exploding like the Big Bang. Giving birth to a new universe. One filled with nothing but hate, pain, and death. An existence where the ones that live simply do so because I let them. Thank you, Jess. I feel like I am me again.

With my empty hand, I press my palm to the middle of her chest and shove with all my might. Her right leg hits the end of the bed, causing her to spin as she sails through the air until her flight is abruptly halted by the nightstand. The top of her head smashes into the wooden piece of furniture, crumpling her onto the floor in a haze.

“Stay!” I smile at her droopy eyes, heavy with confusion and pain.

“You motherfucker!” Ya know, I almost forgot he was here. Bitch boy tries to put on his tough guy pants and charges at me, fist back like he is going to pummel me in the face. I won’t give him the same courtesy I gave my ex.

As I lean out of the path of his fist, I swing the meat cleaver towards his hand. The force of the collision drives the sharp, smooth steel into the flesh between his pinky and ring finger, gliding through the tendons and even cleaving the bone until the meat of his forearm eventually creates enough friction to stop the blade.

And he screams. Oh, does he scream. Fuck me, that sound makes my cock as hard as cinder block. Utilizing this agonizing distraction, I raise my right leg and fire off a kick to his knee cap. The loud pop of it breaking and sending the bones out in the other direction gives me such a tickle.

“Stay.” I smile at his hysterical face before making my way over to Jess. She is a bit more alert now and stands up in a frenzy, knocking over everything on the nightstand.

“Get the fuck away from me!” she sobs.

“Get on the bed,” I say as I stand with my hands together in front of me, my left over the right that's holding the clever.

“FUCK YOU!”

I charge and get in her face. So close that the spit from my words spatter her lips. “Get on the fucking bed, or I will cut you from cunt to collarbone.” Our eyes are locked as the agonizing cries can be heard from bitch boy on the ground behind us.

Tears fall from both of her eyes as she climbs into the bed. She sits, back against the wall and knees pulled tight up against her chest with her arms wrapped firmly around them. “Good girl,” I say. Once said with sexual praise is now said out of spite.

I walk over to the fuck head on the floor. His head keeps lifting, then dropping back to the floor, weaving in and out of consciousness. Awake or not, it makes no difference to me for what’s about to happen next. I reach down and grab the ankle of the broken leg, twisting it completely around until his foot is facing the opposite direction than it should. Then, I stand and drag his body over to the side of the bed. Screams are shuffled together with gags and groans as his body fights to stay alive. It’s kinda cute. I guess I can see what she saw in him.

I look up and see Jess focused on what I’m doing.

Her eyes never leave me.

I grab the head of his cock and pull the flacid appendage tight.

Her eyes never leave me.

I swipe the blade and, with ease, sever the squishy tip from his shaft.

Her eyes never leave me.

I return to the bed with the bloody piece of him. “Open,” I instruct.

“Wha….. what?” she says with a confused sob.

“You want him inside you so badly, open your mouth,” I calmly try to clarify.

“Fuck you. I…. No… I can’t… Please…”

“Open, or I’ll hunt down every single person you’ve ever cared about and make you watch me fuck them as I cut them into pieces—one by one—until everyone you love is dead and gone. And THEN I will fucking kill you,” I seeth before clearing my throat to regain my composure. “Now. Open.”

I can feel her tremble through the mattress as her bottom jaw slowly drops, parting her lips as she closes her eyes. I smile as I push the meat into her mouth.

“Chew.”

She screams around the piece of dick in her mouth as she forces her teeth to grind up the spongy flesh until it’s just small enough for her to choke down.

“Atta girl. I knew you liked to swallow,” I say with a bit of a laugh as I lean down and grab his broken leg. To hold his body still, I press my foot into his bleeding cock and apply counter force as I pull the twisted leg—bending and ripping until it finally comes free. Jess sits there, eyes closed, still sobbing.

I swipe the knife along his calf, cutting another piece of meat off of him.

“Open.” She does. I shove the next slick, warm sliver of human flesh into her mouth and watch her chew and swallow. This time she gags hard. “Uh uh. Don’t you dare…” Before I can get the words out, she vomits all over herself, spreading her knees and unloading between her legs. Her weight in the mattress causes the chunky vomit to pool on her cunt, and, for some reason, that just makes me happy. I can see the pieces of him mixed with whatever she last ate and the multicolored bile. “Oh dear… this won’t do. You wanted him inside you so bad, and that’s where he’s going to stay. We can’t be over here making messes with our dinner.”

She opens her teary eyes, pleading with me silently as I smile again before reaching down and scooping up a handful of her puke. “Open.”

She shakes her head. “My offer still stands. Now, open. Your fucking. Mouth.” She gags again as she opens her lips and accepts my handful of vomit that I force back into her mouth. My cock is screaming to be released from the confines of my pants. “Swallow.”

As she struggles to force it down, I go to work cutting more bite-sized pieces off of… what the fuck was his name anyway? Eh, it doesn't matter anymore. She gags again, and I lose my self-control. My cock needs to be set free. Besides, I think she needs a little assistance getting these nuggets down.

I stand on the bed, pull my cock out, and stroke it with my blood-soaked hand. I watch her chomp the mouthful of her own vomit mixed with pieces of her precious lover as tears stream down her face. The terrified mews that slip out—as she mashes the warm, squishy solids in her mouth—make my dick drip the biggest bead of precum.

She tries to swallow, but I can see she is having a really hard time. “Here, my darling. Let me help force that down,” I say as I step closer, her eyes finally taking notice of what I’m doing. She violently shakes her head no.

I let go of my cock and lunge at her with my filthy hand, like a snake snatching up its prey, grabbing a handful of hair on the top of her head. My other hand presses the blade to her forehead as I tilt my head to look around the blade and into her eyes.

“I will cut your skull open like a fuckin’ watermelon. Now, you’re going to be a good little fucking whore and open your mouth, so I can fuck the pieces of him down your throat,” I grit, growing tired of not having my cock inside of her.

She screams around the muck in her mouth as she opens. “Good fucking girl. Remember, no teeth. I really want to let you live, but if you bite me, that’s just not going to happen,” I lie, doing everything I can not to laugh out loud at how funny I am. Let her live? Not a fucking chance, babygirl, not a fucking chance.

She gently nods in compliance, and I use my hips to place my cock head on her bottom lip that’s slick with vomit. “Mmmm,” I moan out loud as I push in a little. It’s already so full in here. Who knew I liked fucking messy holes like this. I wonder what else I could get into. Something to explore later, but for now…

I thrust my hips forward, using my hand in her hair to keep her head from pulling away. I feel my dick ram chunks of human meat down the back of her tongue and into her throat. I have to give an extra hard shove to cross that tight threshold in the back, and I feel the pieces start to go down.

Quickly, I pull my entire length out and let go of her hair. Her head pulls back and slams against the wall. Perfect. Stay right there. I grab another chunk that I had cut up and push it in her mouth, then quickly ram my rock-hard cock back in, forcing that down her throat, too. Pulling out, I grab another piece and repeat the process. Everytime I slam my cock down her throat—pushing more of this mystery man into her—the back of her head hammers into the wall.

I repeat this process—over and over—fucking the hunks of butchered meat into her throat until her neck looks like a bag of grapes. The squelching sounds, as the meat stacks up to the back of her mouth with nowhere else to go, fill the air. I can’t control the sounds coming out of me—a mixture of moaning and laughter as I continue to fuck her face. Harder and harder, I slam into the warm, squishy mess inside her mouth. The drywall behind her head is dented and cracked with bits of blood in the center. I grin wider. I’ve never seen her blood before, and it rips my orgasm from me. I fuck her face just as hard as I fucked her pussy, shooting my cum into the dumpster of someone else’s flesh in her throat. Creaming the flesh and puke that just can't go down any further. I growl like a wild animal as I finish cumming. But I’m not finished here.

I have no idea how long ago she stopped breathing. I suppose, with her throat swollen up twice the size from the bits of her mutilated fuck buddy, it probably didn’t take long to suffocate. I take my cock out of her mouth and look at all the different colors and textures left over that cling to my skin. So cute. Choosing to not clean it off, I put it back in my pants. The filth is like a warm hug in my underwear. I think I like warm hugs.

I put the cleaver down for a moment and kneel, staring at her dead face. “Oh, Jess. We could have been so great together.” With both hands, I pinch the thin skin of her eyelids and pull with a twist, ripping the flesh away. “Let’s keep them peepers open, shall we? Like I said before, you want him inside you so badly, then let me help you.”

Sliding down the bed, I grab her ankles and pull until she's laying flat on her back. I grab my trusty blade and slam it into the middle of her breast plate before dragging it all the way down to and out her pussy. Setting the knife down again, I reach into the fresh incision with both hands, curling my fingers inside and begin pulling her apart—ripping her wide open.

One by one, I pull out all of her organs to create a nice little beddy-bye for the other corpse on the floor. Once cleaned out well enough, I grab the knife and get to chopping the guy on the floor—fingers, hands, arms up to the elbow, then to the shoulder. Each piece gets stuffed into her hollowed-out body until there's a pretty little pile. Had I known this was the plan, I would have brought more supplies in order to sew her up and make for a shocking discovery at the medical examiner's office but… this will still be quite the work of art.

Once the last of him is cut up and forced into her body, I place his severed head on top. “Ta-da! He can’t get anymore inside you than this, my darling.” I lay down next to her—well, next to them now that they are one person—and turn to look into her lidless eyes.

“We all got murdered here tonight,” I say in a soothing voice as I trail my fingertips down her blood-covered chest and back up to her neck. “I just get to keep breathing. And, honestly, I don’t know who the lucky one is in this scenario.” I kiss her shoulder softly. “I want to thank you, though. I had a moment of weakness. I thought for a split second there that I was capable of love. Like I could feel something other than nothing for someone else. I know better now. You showed me who I truly am, and, for that, I thank you.”

My eye catches a smooth piece of her skin that isn’t scratched or saturated in blood on her breast, a few inches above her nipple. I grab my knife and carefully cut around until my incision connects. Using my fingers, I gently pinch the skin and pull, separating it from the tissue underneath. I hold the slab in my hand and gently pet it with my thumb. “Yeah… I think I’ll keep you. So I’ll never forget.”

I roll out of the bed feeling nothing—an empty shell void of light and happiness. Nothing but a fuckin’ monster. As I walk toward the door, I notice a small box on top of a dresser. Grabbing it and emptying the contents on the floor, I put the piece of her skin inside and close it. Turning back, I smile at the dead man's head atop the pile of his own pieces. “Thanks, man,” I smirk.

Back into the night I go.